CHAPTER 11 #2
The proximity. The way his heartbeat thuds, and I’m close enough to feel it.
The way I can smell him—sandalwood, men’s soap, mixed with a trace of the sweat breaking through.
The way I haven’t told him to put me down even though my ankle could probably survive the remaining flight if I leaned on the railing.
I think about Langley’s face if he ever found out his PR hire was being carried bridal-style by the player she’s supposed to be managing.
I think about the career I clawed back from the ashes of Contour and how thin the ice already is beneath me.
I think about Connor, about how easily I once mistook proximity for a life together and paid for it in years.
And still—still—I don’t tell him to put me down.
That terrifies me more than anything Kendra could email to Langley tonight.
Grizz isn’t even out of breath by the time we hit my floor.
I’m feeling all sorts of foolish for him carrying me up four flights of stairs, combined with him bailing me out with Kendra, combined with us being late, combined with the fact that it was all his fault that we were late in the first place. My nerves are frayed to the bone.
And when I’m stressed or nervous, I have to talk myself off the ledge.
“This is bad,” I mutter, gripping onto Grizz’s shoulders as he carries me the last few steps.
“That woman Kendra seems vindictive. You saw her face, right? The smile that doesn’t move?
She’s already emailing Langley, I know it.
She probably has him on speed dial. Or worse—”
“Worse?” Grizz asks, sounding more amused than winded.
“Maybe she’s sleeping with him. That’s how people like her stay relevant—they cozy up to power. She’s probably whispering in his ear right now, saying I’m incompetent, unprofessional—”
“Turner—”
“—and you just know he’ll believe her because she wears those ridiculous heels that make her legs look a million feet long—”
“Daisy.”
“—and next thing I know, I’m out of a job, blacklisted from every PR firm in the city, all because of one stupid address mix-up—”
“Daisy.”
“—and then I’ll have to move back in with my sister in DC, which is basically a personal hell—”
He stops walking. “Daisy.”
I’m mid-sentence when he shifts my weight slightly, one arm firm under my knees, the other braced against my back. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he leans in and kisses me.
Not a peck.
A full, completely disarming kiss.
My brain short-circuits. When he finally pulls back, I stare at him. “Excuse me?”
Grizz slowly lowers me to the floor where I gingerly rest my weight mostly on my uninjured ankle, although I keep my hand on his shoulder for balance. “Hey, it worked to shut you up once. Haven’t found anything else that’s this effective.”
I blink. “You—you can’t just—”
“Pretty sure I just did,” he says, voice low, eyes glinting with what I think might be mischief, and that completely throws me off. Grizz isn’t the playful type.
For a moment, I can’t think. My mouth opens, but words refuse to come out. His hands are on my waist to balance me and all I can hear is the sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
His gaze flicks from my lips to my eyes, daring me to respond.
And I just… stare.
For one heartbeat, I want to slap him. Every muscle in my body coils with anger—how dare he? How dare he think he can silence me like that? But the heat that floods through me isn’t anger anymore. It’s palpable and questioning, demanding to be released.
With almost no control over my actions, I fist my hand in the front of his hoodie and pull him down to me. The kiss collides hard, messy, electric. All the air between us disappears, replaced by the frantic rush of his breath mingling with mine, the faint scratch of his stubble against my chin.
He goes still for the briefest second, like even he didn’t see this coming.
Then his breath catches and he kisses me back—hungry, certain, and impossibly gentle at the same time, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I open for him and it’s ridiculous how fast my knees go weak.
Grizz walks me back slowly into my door and funny…
my ankle isn’t really bothering me that much right now.
His hand slides to the back of my neck and when he squeezes, heat flashes low in my stomach.
“Someone likes it when I kiss her to shut her up,” he murmurs, lips brushing mine, his voice rough and low, vibrating through my chest.
“Be quiet,” I whisper, my fingers tightening in the soft cotton of his hoodie, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath it.
He smiles against my mouth, that infuriating, knowing grin, and the sound I make isn’t quite a laugh—it’s breathier, needier.
His mouth trails down the edge of my jaw, slow enough to make me tremble and sure enough to make me question my sanity.
When Grizz nips lightly at the spot beneath my ear, I arch toward him, flush against his fantastically muscled body, and I can feel every inch of how much he’s turned on right now.
I should stop this, but I don’t want to. He’s invoking feelings that are too delicious to pass up, and even though somewhere in the far recesses of my brain I know this is probably a bad idea, I can’t find the strength to care.
Grizz murmurs something I can’t process because his hand snakes up under the hem of my shirt, fingers splayed wide and warm against my chest. A thumb grazes my nipple, slow, maddening circles.
“Bedroom. Now.” Wait! Did I just say that out loud?
That seems to jolt Grizz as he lifts his head and peers down at me in question. His eyes darken, search mine to see if there’s some lie behind the demand. “Are you sure, Turner?”
He calls me by my last name, perhaps a reminder that there’s nothing personal or intimate in this situation. I reach down, drag my fingers over the thick ridge of his erection straining against the zipper of his jeans.
Grizz hisses and I chuckle. “I’m sure. What about you, McAvoy?”
He answers through action, nabbing my keys out of my hand.
He turns and efficiently unlocks my door and pushes it open.
He’s then lifting me in his arms once again like I weigh nothing.
My legs wrap instinctively around his waist and his hands cup my ass to hold me tight to him.
My pulse is everywhere—throat, wrists, chest, and lower, an insistent ache blooming between my thighs.